


Tales of Arkham

by THUG_TEARS1



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arkham Asylum, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Hip Hop, I'm making this shit up as I go along, Other, Past Relationship(s), R&B, Radiohead, There will probably be more tags, Tom Waits - Freeform, first fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25609564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THUG_TEARS1/pseuds/THUG_TEARS1
Summary: Got a new Job at Arkham. Turns out I know one of the patients from the college days. Odds are I'm going to absolutely fuck this up.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Can I kick it?

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, here's the gist of it. I just had this idea of a low-key tale from the perspective of an 'every-day' Gotham Civilian and maybe add a "Slice-of-life" element to it. Then I was like, "Fuck it.", let's turn this in to a proper ol' fanficcy piece.
> 
> p.s.  
> First fic,  
> but comment whatever you want, not too fussed.

The knock on the apartment door breaks me away from my reverie.

“Ay, you gonna get that, Chief?” Marcus asked from the couch, entirely focused on his FiFa match.

A weighted sigh and coffee are left on the kitchen counter.

“Right, because you're so busy.”

I open the door to the smell of freshly baked pizza and a familiar face.

“Alright, mate.” The beaming smile of the New Zealand native tends to distract everyone from his bulky physique.

“What’s good, Noah?” I ask, as we move back to the kitchen.

“Nothin’ much brotha, just the usual stuff, y’know.” 

Opening up the boxes, the smell of Giorno’s pizza fills the apartment. An audible ping from the couch grabs our attention.

“Looks like Max is gonna be 10 mins late.” 

“Right, Well we’ll save him a few slices.” I say as I pull out three plates from the kitchen cupboards.

“Got any beers, mate?” Noah asks as he starts serving out the pizza.

“Marcus brought a case, there should be some in the fridge.” 

“Gotta get some tunes on in here.” Noah states as he takes out three cold ones.

“I’ve got you covered, got some classics on the queue.” 

Marcus plays some Tribe Called Quest through the Hi-Fi system on top of a small shelf containing multiple vinyl records on display underneath..

“Absolute bangers mate.” 

Heads bobbing as we bring over the food and drinks.

“Can I kick it?” I ask before I sit on the lazy boy next to the couch.

An enthusiastic ‘Yes, you can’ was the response.

... 

“So. why the surprise get together Lee?” Marcus asks as he takes a swig of his beer

Nas through the speakers sets the mood and has got us vibin.

“I was planning on telling you guys when we were all here.” I reply as I check my phone, going through some old, seen emails.

A couple of knocks on the door grasp our attention.

“Speak of the devil.” Noah says as he gets up from the couch.

Max comes in with an exasperated sigh as he hangs his coat behind the door.

“Another wasted afternoon.” Max says as he grabs a beer from the fridge.

“Bad date?” Marcus asks as he flicks through the news channels.

“There are a couple of slices for you there mate.”

“Cheers and Yes, it was going well until a half-a-dozen of Two-Face’s goons started storming the restaurant.” 

A fatigued Max ambles over to the couch with a beer and a plate of pizza in hand.

Vicki Vale suddenly appears on one of the news channels Marcus happens to be flicking through.

“Another commotion today at the Gotham City Centre as 6 armed thugs who have been identified as members of Two-Face’s gang attempted to rob the 5 michelin star restaurant, La Pergola. However, before the situation was able to escalate they were apprehended by the GCPD…”

Vicki continues with the afternoon report.

“Damn, Max.” 

Noah, Marcus, and myself look over in astonishment.

“5 star!?” Marcus exclaims in shock

“You lucky bastard.” Noah jealously says as he takes a swig.

“What can I say boys, I dine with royalty.” Max proclaims proudly as he takes a bite of his pizza.

…

“Now that we’re all here, I’ve got an announcement to make.” I lean back in my seat to gauge their reactions.

“Finally found a girl?” Marcus remarks playfully. .

“Or possibly a guy?” Max adds, his eyebrows raising and falling.

“C’mon lads. Go on then, Lee.” Noah brushes them off.

“I’ve got a job at Arkham Asylum.”

A stretch of silence and worried glances exchange between the 3 on the couch. 

Perhaps I should’ve waited till they were all drunk.

“Look Lee, we know you said you wanted to make big changes this year, be more spontaneous, etcetera.” Marcus says as he points his beer at me.

“But.” Max continues for him.

“This may not have been the smartest idea.” Max adds carefully.

“I mean, the pay is pretty good.” 

It might be a feeble attempt to convince them, but it sure as hell swayed me to pick up the job. Standing up, I pick up my beer from the coffee table and move over to open up the balcony door, only large enough for a handful of potted plants and a foot stool. A summer breeze whistles through the apartment. 

“Seriously bro? Isn’t that dangerous? With all the break outs and all that.” Noah says cracking open another beer.

“Is there at least hazard pay? Wayne tech has got us covered.” Marcus leans over to turn down the Hi-fi system ever so slightly.

Leaning against the railing, I look up and notice the grey, heavy rain clouds and let out a little chucke.

“Funny enough, that makes up half of my salary.”

…

A couple of hours pass by with simple catch-up and casual riffing between the four. 

"Alright, going back to the topic at hand, Arkham?" The last round of beers now in hand; Max passing them out.

The music now switched over to a playlist of lo-fi beats and instrumentals. Noah now in the kitchen nursing a bottle of water, on the phone to his girlfriend, probably going on about his next game against the Chicago Bears. 

"What's with the shitty 'beats-to-study-to'?"  
Marcus calls from the toilet near the single bedroom located at the end of the flat.. 

"Oi, don't judge." Noah rebuts, temporarily placing the phone down to his chest.

"Tsk, riiiight." 

The sound of the toilet flushing and running water bring me back to the present.

"Hm? Oh yeah." 

Now lying across the couch, I start to really wonder why I took the job.

"I mean, I needed to get out of retail, that shit was killing me, Max." 

Max now seated in the leather lazy boy, I now find the irony in the situation 

"Well I'm not the trained psychiatrist here, but." Max starts off warily.

"You've been in a slump for a while now, Lee." Max leaning forward trying to get the attention of the other two.

Marcus comes over first.

"No shit."

Max gives him an exasperated look.

"What? We all know you were going through a rough one, but Arkham was the last place we'd picture you in." Marcus sits back down on the couch and turns the T.V. back on, skimming through the channels.

The random skimming lands on a T.V. documentary on Gotham’s Most Wanted: Femme Fatales.

“Ay Noah, check this shit out!” Marcus calls over.

Noah appears to have finished his phone call and comes over with bottles of water in hand.  
He gestures one to Max and I.

A pair of cheers and much needed refreshments are shared.

“How’s Veronica?” I ask as I watch the doc dispassionately.

“Aw, she’s good mate, just wanted to remind me that I’ll be dog-sitting for her over the weekend.” Noah says as he takes a seat on the couch.

Marcus mimics the sound of a whip cracking through the air.

The documentary appears to be covering the villainesses of Gotham this week, from Catwoman to lesser known evildoers such as Calendar Girl; From their greatest exploits (or worst?) to their possible origins. 

The ongoing segment appears to showcase and compare the varying skills of Talia al Ghul and  
Catwoman.

“Geez, how does Batman do it?” Marcus sounds genuinely puzzled.

“Hm?” Seemingly entranced by the acrobatic maneuvers from footage captured from news agencies and lucky civilians.

“I mean, Damn, I’d be too distracted to do any of that caped crusader shit.” Marcus says, as bewitched as Noah and I are.

“You sound like an old man.” Max states dryly.

“C’mon, I know you don’t swing that way, but you could at least throw me a bone here.” Marcus jokingly pleads.

“Fine. I would kill to find out what diet plans and routines they are on to keep those figures.” Max sighs with his arms up in a mocking surrender.

Drowning out the conversation and the tv, my thoughts wander to how we’ve grown accustomed to the seemingly endless chaos grown from the underbelly of Gotham. I mean, shit, every other week there’s a new wannabe-Joker trying to make a name for themselves. Some people worry about getting mugged, I worry if my apartment building will still be standing by the end of the week. Shit, at least we’ve got Batman.

“Ground control to Major Lee.” Max waves my bottle in front of me.

“Cheers.” Taking a swig, I come back to the real world.

“As I was saying.” Marcus feigns a cough.

“A toss up between Catwoman or Talia, who would you slee- I mean, spend a romantic evening with.” Marcus corrects himself while Max just shakes his head.

“Well, I for one, will stay out of this as I’m in a happy relationship right now.” Noah beams with his blinding smile.

“C’mon man. Hy-po-the-ti-cal, do I have to spell it out for you?”

“I’ll say Talia, that European background is just so alluring. I wonder if she has any brothers?” Max begins to contemplate.

“That’s the spirit! What about you Lee?” Marcus finally on the cusp of the bro-bonding-moment he’s been striving for.

“Pam?”

“Who the fuck is Pam?” A bewildered Marcus turns his attention to the tv, along with the others.

The documentary continues to a focused segment on Poison Ivy.

“I know her from back in the college days.” I answer, now focused on the ongoing segment of her “backstory”.

Max, Noah, and Marcus slowly begin to realize who I’m referring to.

A mixture of shock and disbelief cloud their features.

“No fucking way.”


	2. Lava Lamp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thundercat, lava lamp

“Alright, alright. You’ve got to start talking bro.” Noah signs a time out.

Turning the TV down, the documentary is still playing in the background. Seems as though everyone’s attention is on me now. 

Probably should’ve seen this coming. 

Standing up, I walk over to a small bookshelf next to the mini-balcony, pulling out a thin, green book from the top. Wiping off a bit of dust, I hand it over to Max. The three huddle together to get a better look.

“A yearbook?” Marcus the first to speak out.

Watching them flip through the pages, a sense of dread slowly seeps through. 

“Where abouts are you in here, Lee?” An intrigued Noah moves in closer.

“Oh there he is!” Max jabs his finger at a candid shot of myself.

Looking back on it, those were definitely simpler times. Worrying about cramming and finishing the latest report seem almost trivial when you reminisce about the past. I mean look at me, just sat there on a bench, reading a book in public with no care in the world. The audacity.

“Ay, are those black air forces?” Noah points out.

“That ain’t it, chief.” Marcus sadly shakes his head.

“I agree.” Max looks at the picture in disgust.

"Ay, leave it." 

These idiots sure know how to get off topic. Then again, the all black af1s were a bad idea. Pairing them up with some black skinnys and a plain white tee, just screams creativity. 

"Fuck it, pass it here."

Skipping right towards the end, we eventually found a picture of a class teaching biochemistry.

"There she is."

"Wow." Marcus flatly responds.

"She seems normal here." Max seems to continue for Marcus.

"She was."

Pamela Isley. Back then, unless she was protesting something for the benefit of the environment, she mostly kept to herself.

"I actually met her outside the campus." 

"Spill the beans." Noah now with a pillow on his knees, propping up his elbows.

"Wanted some flowers for my mum. Bumped into her at a Florists." I shrugged.

"How cliche." Max rolls his eyes.

"How romantic." Noah exclaims with his hands under his chin.

"Nah, it wasn't like that." Dismissing the not-so-subtle insinuations.

Getting up, I walk back over to the bookcase and return the year book. 

"So that's it?" Marcus in complete disbelief.

"I mean, no, I did ask for her number." I say, taking a seat.

"Oooooh yeah, that's my boy, up top🤚." Noah gestures for a high five.

Leaning over, I reciprocate the highest of the fives.

“So let me get this straight, you were in an intimate relationship with one of Gotham's Most Infamous Vixens and you never thought to bring it up?” Max, now taking over the sound system with some Thundercat.

“We hung out. Eventually went on a few dates. The usual stuff, coffee and such.”

“Did you smash?” Noah asks with puppy dog eyes.

Well that threw me off. Especially coming from Noah.

“She was different back then, I mean, very different considering what she’s like now.” 

I get up to go for a refill.

"Still passionate about Nature, to a lesser degree. Less ‘terroristy’, more passive protester." 

Digging through the fridge, I find a two-day old, half empty Apple juice. That’ll do.

"You gotta give us more than that." Marcus almost pleading.

Reeling back from that sharp taste, I check the clock above the door. 11:38.

“No,no,no. You’re not going to snake your way out of this one.” Max getting up, attempting to corner me in the kitchen.

“It’s getting late boys, I’ve got an early start tomorrow.” A little cheeky grin and I shimmy pass Max.

“And I try not to kiss and tell. Maybe next time.” I walk over to the door to let them out.

“Wait just a second mate.” Noah helps out by clearing out the bottles.

Marcus starts packing his stuff and helps with the plates. Off by the door, Max appears to be ordering an uber. 

“Noah, I’ll tell you guys some other time.” Turning off the hi-fi by the remote.

“Nah mate, don’t worry ‘bout that. Thought I’d give you a gift for the new job.” Noah starts fishing through his pockets.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t have a little office trinket in there.” My interest piqued.

"Catch." Noah tosses some keys.

Fumbling the catch, I look down to notice the little 'H' embossed on the key.

"You're joking, right?" Disbelief and joy start rushing through.

"Yeah, I hope you're joking. How are we supposed to top that?" Marcus and Max also appear to be in a similar state. Take away the joy.

"I've been meaning to get an upgrade for a while now, and ol' blue needed a home." Noah says with his signature smile.

"Damn man, thanks." Admiring the car keys in my hand, a mini rabbit's foot keychain seems to gleam beneath the lights. Hopefully that’ll bring me luck.

"I'll be splitting the uber with you two." Noah calls over.

"Geez, well we'll see you soon Lee. You better tell us how it all goes tomorrow." Max grabbing his coat from the door's rack.

“We’ll get you your present the next time we see you.” Marcus says, already out the door.

"Doubt it would be as good as Noah's but we'll definitely try." Max adds on.

"I'm coming down as well. I never asked for any gifts, by the way. You guys really don't have to." Taking my own coat from the rack.

"You're finally getting your shit together and you did just give us some juicy info about your deadly ex. So it's the least we can do." Max says closing the door behind me.

I go ahead and lock up, never can be too careful around here.

Heading down two flights of stairs, we eventually meet the streets. Located downtown Gotham, a sweet little flat in Chinatown. Can’t complain really, good food, decent parking, and there’s a little club about 15 minutes from here. 

“I just signed a new contract with the Gotham City Rogues, so I thought it would be time to get myself a new whip.” Noah says as he walks round his old car.

1999 Honda Civic Si in Electric Blue. Decent condition considering the age, a bit of rust around the wheel arches. Looks like some aftermarket rims were added on a while back, a few scuffs on those but nothing too serious. Looking through the window, a couple of cigarette burns show up on the passenger seat. An aftermarket radio, Pioneer, probably added on by Noah.

“Go on then, get in.” Noah says giving me a little shove.

Seems a bit too roomy, wait, I forgot how tall Noah is. Moving the seat forward a ‘couple’ of inches. I finally reach the pedals, a five speed manual shift, damn, pretty clean. Starting the engine up, a soft purr echoes through the streets.

“I was planning on taking the train to Arkham.” I finally admit, bringing the windows down.

“Well, you don't have to worry about that now.” Noah says with his signature grin.

Pulling the windows up, I turn off the engine and get out of the car. 

A black car pulls up as we say our goodbyes.

“Looks like the Uber’s here.” Marcus says, drawing the attention of the others.

“You keep safe now Lee, God knows what’s waiting for you in Arkham.” Max seemingly doing his best impression of an overprotective mother.

“Nah, he'll be fine. Chances are he’s going to get laid out of this.” Marcus calls out, throwing a peace sign before he gets in.

“Just don’t do anything too reckless now.” Noah daps me up before he goes.

“I’ll try to stay out of trouble.” I tell them as the car pulls away.

Looking up, the moon glimmers as it breaks through the overcast clouds.

“I’ll definitely try.”


	3. 15 Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15 step, Radiohead

A shallow cobblestone path leads to a rusty gate surrounded by an emerald bush.  
The green tunnel appears to be endless, an encroaching darkness taunts those who wander too close to the edge. The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel is jarring but a welcome sight. However, the mirage-like spectacle of a bountiful garden that seems to be the centre of this maze causes one's mind to wonder of the possible emotions Adam and Eve felt as they first experienced the Garden of Eden. 

A lone figure stands in the centre of a wooden hexagonal pagoda. Her features slowly appear as I step closer and closer. Blood-red lockes delicately frame her featureless face. A foreboding smile begins to spread across porcelain skin, lips an even deeper shade than her lockes, beckons one with an impassioned heat. A curvaceous frame envelops my own. 

Whispers of sweet nothing.

Then nothing.

*beep *beep *beep

"Fuck."

Blindly reaching over for my phone on the bedside table, I realize I should probably change my alarm tone.

6:00 AM

I should start getting used to this. Might as well start the day with some coffee.

Getting up and going through the morning routine. Coffee, toilet, shower and then breakfast. In that particular order.

One last check in the mirror.

A Lightweight green sports coat paired with beige smart trousers. 

I look like a fucking substitute teacher.

At least I look somewhat professional. 

6:37 AM

I've still got time. Should take me less than 30 minutes to get there. I'm pretty sure they said I had to be there by 7:15.

Grabbing my canvas shoulder bag, I head out the door and lock up.

Ol' Blue seems to start up well enough. Giving the car a second to tick over, I rummage through the glove box to eventually find an aux cord.

"Perfect."

"What'll it be today then?" I ask myself as I go through my playlists.

Eventually settling on Radiohead's In Rainbows for my journey.

"Mhmm, that'll do."  
…

The shadows cast by the wrought iron gates leave a menacing yet expected impression. A security guard waves over from the newly-built checkpoint.

I pull up alongside the shack and roll down the window.

"You new here amigo? Or you just visiting?" A chuckle follows as she asks.

"Umm, I'm new?" Checking the time, 7:03. Still got time.

"Haven't seen you around, unless you're here to break anyone out, you should have a pass code sent to you via text." She checks the system. 

As if on cue, a notification ping comes from my phone.

"Wow." 

Impressed by the technological prowess of Arkham, I show her the code.

"You'll get your own keycard but this is to let you know that we've got you on our system. It's based on location, just keeping an eye on you while you're on the premises." A wink and a flutter of the eyes of playful coy is but an attempt to offset the invasion of privacy.

Still impressed but slightly uncomfortable of the Big Brother aspect of the job. Then again, that was probably in the fine print.

"Thanks."

A small smile and a wave is reciprocated as the gate opens.

…

"Ah, welcome."

A lean, pale looking receptionist glances up from his terminal to briefly address me.  
A small desk plaque attempts some form of levity to newcomers; "You don't have to be crazy to work here - but it helps."

"I'm here for the new job." I awkwardly scratch behind my ear and look around. Looks a bit like a reception to the dentist's in here. Oddly "normal". 

"I see." The receptionist buzzes a door to open.

"Third door to your left. Remember to knock." He emphasises the latter.

Walking past a couple of doors with name plaques from, my guess, other therapists, I start to get a bit anxious about all of this.   
Alright Lee, relax. This is just the start of a new chapter in life. 

Jesus, I sound like a divorcee on a spiritual journey somewhere in Asia.

Live, Laugh, Love.

My ass.

Arriving at my destination I let out a bated breath and knock on the door. 

"Come in." A firm yet pleasant tone calls out, muffled behind the door.

Opening the mahogany door, I'm greeted by the sight of a well-lit, overly decorated office. A mismatch of decor and furniture seem to be scattered around the place. A wooden globe by the door and a neon green beanbag placed in front of a row of bookcases. Boxes neatly piled into the far left corner of the room cast a shadow on the Head of Arkham's Psychiatric ward, Park Sun-jin. 

"Apologies for the clutter, I am also relatively new to my position. Still getting rid of all this old junk." She points to all of the mess.

Standing at a modest 5'9, bleached blonde hair and scarlet painted lips. Tattoos seem to be peaking out from her white blouse matched with a black pencil skirt. The closest you can get to a real pin-up girl.

Cool.

"Don't worry, sorry. I'm Lee." Walking over to extend a hand.

"I'm here for the open position as a psychiatrist."

Looking down at my extended hand, she looks back up.

"Please take a seat." 

Right, no handshake then.

Sitting opposite her in a cream leather seat with a glass desk between the two of us. The desk seems a lot neater in comparison to the rest of the office.   
Documents piled up to her right and an open laptop to her left.

"I shall cut to the chase, I've been making significant changes around here." She says as she types into her laptop.

"As you may guess, we have quite a high employee turnover and I've been trying to find ways to tackle this issue." 

I have heard that people don't stay around Arkham for too long. Usually isn't their own decision. 

"The previous head of the ward was simply ill-suited to the calibre of patients we have here." She says glancing back up to me.

"So to start, I've started to thin out the herd before they start running off themselves. Of course this is to my own standard." 

Gold standard more like.

"Which brings me to you, not a lot of people sign up for this sort of work and skimming through your resume, sorry to be blunt, but it is lacking. Mainly in experience." She sure as hell doesn't sound very sorry.

"Yeah, thought I'd give it a shot anyway. Sorry 'bout that." Replying with a simple shrug.

"However, I asked a friend of mine to do a bit more digging." She says as she raises her eyebrows.

"A background check?" 

"Please, that's standard over here." She rolls her eyes.

"A little birdie told me that you gave unlicensed therapy sessions through the black market." A return of that commanding tone of hers.

Fuck. I had to find some sort of way to pay my rent. A bit unorthodox but it worked.

"This is definitely a first." She says with a hint of sarcasm.

Letting out a heavy sigh and running my fingers through my hair.

"Alright, alright. I needed the cash and as you've said I lack experience. No one wants to hire a fresh graduate. Looking at all the possible revenues of a decent wad of cash. I noticed that there was a surplus of a specific commodity here in Gotham." I pause, hopefully she's still listening.

"Which is?" 

"Criminals. Or ex-criminals mainly. People that are trying to go straight."

"Hmm."

A moment of silence passes.

"How did you accomplish this?" She finally asks.

"As you've said, Black market. As soon as I gained some traction there, I got a bit of notoriety. Couple of friendly drug dealers recommended me to people who were struggling with addiction. So yeah." 

"I must say, I wasn't expecting you to actually be helping people." Dare I say she looks surprised.

"Ouch." I feign hurt.

"Still, what you were doing was illegal." She sighs and closes her laptop.

"Sorry, I-"

"Stop apologising. It's a sign of weakness." 

Why am I not surprised that I'm getting psychoanalysed. 

Standing up, she walks around her desk and sits on it directly in front of me. Her right knee atop the other.

"In exchange for this piece of information not seeing the light of day, I would like you to take part in an experiment." She finally seems to regard me, eye to eye.

"Experiment?" I reply confused yet curious.

"Reviewing the results from the background check we did on you. A couple of interesting points stood out." Pulling out a copy of the document from a manila folder on top of her desk.

"It appears as though you have a history with one of our patients."

She hands me the document. The first detail that caught my eye, were the old pictures of Pam and I.

Damn, I swear I took those off of Facebook. If I were more honest with myself, I'd admit that I'd be feeling a sense of nostalgia looking through these old photos.

Giving her a quizzical look, she simply replies with, "As I said, I have some friends in high places."

"Now, back to the topic at hand. With the given information, I have found an opportunity to rekindle this relationship of yours."

"Wait, what?" I hope this isn't going where I think it is.

"I believe that our friend here, Poison Ivy, can be rehabilitated. By you."

"I don't think that's a good idea-" Woah, this is going where I think it is.

"You already have an established connection with Dr. Ivy, albeit it was a couple of years ago now." She says dismissing my complaints.

"Which is the issue, I haven't spoken to her in years." Trying to point out to her that she is throwing me into the deep end while I'm still learning how to swim.

"Is it an issue? My hypothesis suggests that a friendly face will be an excellent specimen contrasting Dr. Isley's assertiveness." Simply ignoring the absurdity of the situation, Sun-jin states it all ever so matter-of-factly.

Specimen?

"It seems you're confused, allow me to elaborate." Glancing back up to me, as if she's just now acknowledged my presence.

Sun-jin slowly paces around the office, running her fingers across old textbooks.

"I myself have a certain history with larger-than-life patients."

I heard she had a high-profile patient in Metropolis. Rumour was that it was some new money guy with major issues.

"I learnt a lot from that experience. Especially when it came to the power dynamics within a Doctor-patient relationship." A return to her resolute tone.

"You must not think of this as a problem, but as an opportunity. I myself am interested in the results." She concludes with her return to her original seat.

Is she really expecting me to be her lab rat just because she's curious? This is way too much to handle. I mean shit, I was working with ex-convicts and recovering drug users. And even that went sideways every now and then. It would probably be for the best if I just decline the position. Yeah, this just isn't going to work. I'll just tell her that I am nowhere near qualified for this much responsibility. She'll understand.

"Thanks for the opportunity but-"

"How about an extra 25% to your salary?" 

"When do I start?"


	4. Tango till they're sore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tango till they're sore, Tom Waits.
> 
> Sorry this took a while.

Arriving home after a long day of work, I head straight for a cup of coffee.

Can I really call it a day of work if all they did was just show me around?

As I let the kettle boil, I check for any new messages.

*Ping

There it is. I let out a sigh and open the group chat.

Max: So, are you going to tell us how it went?

•●•

Noah: how was your first day son?

Me: I can't divulge any information about my patients or the workplace.

•●•

Max: what a buzz kill🥱🥱

Me: they just showed me around, nothing exciting 🙃 

Noah: All right, then. Keep your secrets.

…

Now that I've had some time to ruminate on today's events, I've come to the conclusion that I'm pretty much fucked.

I mean, what am I going to say?

'Hey Pam, Long time no see'

'Been up to much lately?'

Nah, that's not going to work. She's in prison for crying out loud. Oops, I mean rehabilitation. Of course she hasn't been up to much.

'Wagwan buff ting?'

Definitely not. Might get in trouble for that one.

A long drawn out sigh and I feel like I've hit a brick wall.

"Maybe some music would help?"

It usually does anyway. 

Walking over to my hi-fi system, I crouch down to skim through my slowly growing vinyl collection.

I was just planning on buying some of my faves, you know, trying to keep the spending low, and now it looks like I've started a collection. At least there are some decent second hand shops around Chinatown, found some hidden gems here and there.

Ah, Rain Dogs.

Tom Waits' classic 1985 album. Got it at an absolute bargain as well.

Now that my flat sounds like a bourbon fueled jazz bar with the stench of old sailors whisky, I can finally relax.

Taking a seat on the couch, I return to try and find a solution to my little problem. Maybe I should keep it simple you know. 

Who am I kidding? She probably doesn't even remember me.

Glancing over at the clock on the wall, I realise I should probably head to bed. Got an early start tomorrow after all.

...

Arriving at Arkham for my first "official" day of work. Greeted by Marissa, the security guard, her friendly smile eases some of my tension.

"Boss wants to see you before you start." The receptionist declares dismissively as he buzzes me through.

"Heard you wanted to see me." Attempting to sound nonchalant.

"You seem quite calm, considering it's your first day."

"Fake confidence is just as good as the real thing." Throwing a cheeky smile her way.

"Well, you'll need plenty of it if you want to stand toe-to-toe with Dr. Isley." She says ignoring my feeble attempts of levity.

"You don’t have to worry too much. We'll be monitoring you every step of the way."  
Returning a somewhat cordial smile herself.

"Thanks. Anything else before I go?" Asking, as I head for the door.

"That’ll be all. And Good luck." Glancing up to me one more time before she focuses back on her own work.

"God knows I'll need it."

…

Appears as though they haven't made a lot of changes to the original layout of the asylum. A couple of renovations throughout the years seems like. Fresh Marble white paint line the corridors and small signs and arrows to lead the way.

"Looks like I'm going down." Mumbling to myself as I approach a pair of elevators.

Psychiatric wards SVF 1-12, four floors down.

For those on the fairer side that require "specific" precautionary measures.

Two floors down and the elevator doors open for another colleague.

"First day?" He asks, leaning against the mirrored walls.

"Yup." I reply with a quick nod.

"Got nothing to worry about, kid. Worse case scenario… well best not to think about it." He chuckles as he leaves for the 3rd floor.

"Thanks." Mumbling sarcastically to no one as the doors close.

Greeted by another hallway, mocha coloured walls and crisp white tile flooring. Security on this level, two at either end of the T-shaped corridor. 

"We've been informed by Boss Park that you'll be here." One of the security guards states as I step out of the lift.

Both armed with AR-18s, which seems a bit excessive, but then again the variety of patients we have down here starts to make me feel they may be packing quite light.

On closer inspection, they're also carrying tasers. Good to know. 

"Uhh, cool. Do you know where room IV-7 is?" 

"Down the hall, second door to your left." He replies with a curt nod.

Real shot in the dark here, but I'm just going to assume that the nameplates on the rooms are abbreviations of the patients' names. Just throwing it out there. The maniacal laughter coming out of room "HAR-1" really strengthens my theory.

Alright then Lee. Now's the time. The moment you've been dreading the pass 24 hours or so. Approaching her room, another wave of anxiety creeps through. Shit, Let's just relax. Breathe in and out, all that good stuff. There's no backing out now, might as well jump in head first.

Heavy trepidation seems to disappear upon entrance. From here it looks like a studio apartment, queen sized bed and an en suite to match. The room actually looks alright, to be honest. The lack of natural sunlight might be a bit of a bummer for her, but apart from that, this is a sweet little pad.

Oh yeah, the massive slab of glass that separates the room with a metal table that is shared between both sides is a bit weird. Apart from that though, sweet pad.

A figure moves underneath the off white duvet. 8:20; looks like someone is sleeping in this morning. 

"I'll be with you shortly, Doc. I just had the most wonderful dream…" Ivy moans sensuously, not at all suggestive or anything. 

A head pops out from beneath the covers with probably the most glorious bed hair I've ever seen. Waves and waves of blood-red lockes frame her face. I shit you not, prettiest shit I've ever seen.

"Hey Pam." 

"Pam?" Ivy whispers to herself as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

Finally acknowledging my presence, she appears somewhat startled. Pulling up her duvet as a shield to protect her birthday suit. Not the reaction I was expecting from the ever so dangerous Poison Ivy.

"Guess you were expecting someone else." Murmuring as I place my bag on the metal table.

"You're not Doctor Edwards." Ivy declares with confidence, as she finds her infamous tenacity.

"From what I've been told, it was a mutual decision, better pastures and all that." Dismissively waving off the possible rabbit hole of questions on why they fired the previous psychiatrist. Probably the Boss' gold standard.

"Wait, do I know you?" Ivy wonders as she leaves her bed, still clad in absolutely nothing. 

Catching a glimpse of her voluptuous form, I try my best to be respectful and avert my gaze, I really try. However, the sway of her full hips and powerful thighs are just too much to handle. Moving up her frame, how can one forget about her perfect brea-

Fuck, you're a professional Lee. Sort yourself out.

"It has certainly been a while Pam." Clearing my throat and loosening my collar as I take a seat at the end of the cold metal table.

Ivy grabs a thin, almost transparent jade nightgown from the cream faux leather ottoman at the end of her bed. 

As she takes a seat opposite me, there appears to be a gradual change in her demeanour as she gets a closer look. Looks like it's dawning on her.

"Lee?!" Ivy yells in disbelief.

Looks like she does remember. That's sweet.

"'Yup, the one and only." I reply with a cheeky wink and a pair of finger guns 

"What're you doing here?" Ivy clears her throat and collects herself. 

"Believe it or not, I work here." Showing her my i.d. hanging from my lanyard.

"And you're supposed to be my therapist?" Ivy points at me like it's my fault.

"Nah I'm just visiting. How are ya? Been up to much recently?" Grinning while sarcastically taunting her.

Ivy stares daggers at me.

"You wound me Pam, and after everything we've been through." I dramatically reply as I feign hurt.

"My god, this is what that woman was planning." 

"Sounds like you've met the boss."

"Doesn't matter, I can have you wrapped around my finger whenever I want." Ivy chuckles and blows a kiss my way.

Looks like she's putting up some walls. Let's try and break them down.

"C'mon Pam, We go way back. You wouldn't use your pheromones or whatever to turn me into one of your brainless soldiers. Would you?" I playfully plead whilst giving her my best puppy dog eyes.

"Seriously? This is your game plan? Using our brief "history" to try and convince me not to brainwash you. We only dated for a couple of months." Ivy exasperatedly explains, throwing out air quotes for "history". 

"Is it working?" 

Ivy replies with a weighted sigh and rolls her eyes at my shenanigans.

"We didn't just date for a "couple" of months, by the way, it was 8." I carefully add as I take out a small notebook from my bag.

"You remember?"

Did she sound hopeful?

No, no, no. You’re in your own head Lee. But then again,  
maybe...

"'Of course, how could I forget about you?" I reassure her.

Ivy lets out a sly grin and stretches in her seat.

"Gotcha, I don't need to use my abilities to get you Lee." Ivy mewls and flutters her eyes.

"Wanna bet on it Pam?" I continue the playful banter.

"Do you really think I'll fall for such an obvious ploy?" Ivy deadpans.

"I dunno, maybe the great and powerful Poison Ivy has to rely on her supernatural abilities to brainwash her adorable little psychiatrist slash ex boyfriend." I shrug and reply with a cheeky grin.

“Fine, fine. What's in it for me then?" 

Ha, gotcha.

"Name your price Pamela." 

"Freedom?" Ivy suggests absentmindedly.

"Anything else?" I answer back with sarcasm.

"Fine. There's a coffee shop in the Upper East Side by the park that do the best caramel lattes." 

"Victoria's?" 

I know the place. Bit of a drive from my place. 35 minutes considering the traffic.

"That's the one, almond milk please."

That's actually pretty reasonable. A bit pricey but reasonable nonetheless.

"And what about you, Lee?" Ivy leans forward granting an exceptional view of her impressive cleavage.

"What about me?" Dazed and entranced.

"What do you want?" Ivy whispers seductively from beyond the glass.

"Where do I begin?"


	5. Long time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> long time. carti

"What do you want?" 

This just isn't fair. How can she look at me like that while I'm trying to "work" here. Sure, she has the type of body that would make Aphrodite envious but what they forget to mention are those eyes. Piercing green emeralds that could cut glass. 

I remember them being blue.

Don't falter now. Just have to keep this merry atmosphere going, and it should all go well.

"Where do I begin?" Sighing while looking up at the tiled ceiling.

Ivy clears her throat to get my attention. 

"Why are you here anyway?" Ivy pries with an inquisitive tone.

'I've already told yo-"

"No, I mean here in Gotham. Never expected to see your face in this hell hole of a city." 

"You think about me often, Pam?" Throwing her a cheeky smile.

"Enough with the lame jokes and the false bravado, Lee." 

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

"Fine, fine. To be completely honest with you Pam. I'm not too sure myself. Not a lot of work out there and adulthood isn't really vibing with me." I trail off and probably tell her more than I should.

The sceptical look on her face suggests that she may not buy it, but hey, that really is the gist of it. I think.

"Shit, at least there's a friendly face around here. You're a sight for sore eyes Pam." 

A sigh for a reply and she's out her chair and making a drink from across the room. Looks like there's a miniature fridge near her dresser with all the required tools for a drink bar. The boss really isn't pulling any stops in making inmates feel comfortable. 

Coming back with what appears to be a bloody mary in hand, "I'm not the same person you once knew, Lee." 

"You're right, the Pam I knew wouldn't be drinking at 9 in the morning. She would've offered me one too." I reply noticing the shift in the atmosphere.

Ignoring the slight jab, "No one calls me that anymore." 

"Would you prefer it if I called you Poison Ivy?"

"Is there any point in asking now?" Ivy turns her head, looking at nothing in particular.

"I guess not."

Silently drinking her cocktail, I start taking notes.

"What does Harley call you?"

"Does it matter?" 

"Heard you two are close."

"Are my personal relationships really that interesting to you?"

"Off the record, I was worried that your new "occupation" would cut you off from having any healthy personal relationships." Shifting my gaze from my notes to her.

From the way she's trying to cut me off, I believe she's uncomfortable with me being her psychiatrist. I can't really blame her. Popping up from out of nowhere and immediately asking all these intimate questions, no wonder she's acting slightly hostile. I really should've reevaluated my approach-

"Red." 

"I'm sorry?" I ask, as she breaks me from my train of thought.

"She likes to call me Red." Ivy replies with a hint of a blush.

"I'm glad you've found someone." It's hard not to smile at that reaction.

"Have you?"

"Woefully single, sadly." Breathing out a sigh.

A brief moment passes between us of silent contemplation. Ivy nursing her drink, and myself taking notes. A certain comfort comes from her presence. Even when we were together, she had a way of making you feel at ease. Ironic, that she can do that now whenever she wants with her pheromones. 

"What're you smiling about?" Ivy leaning forward, ice cubes clink in her now empty glass.

"Just reminiscin'." Trying to play it off nonchalantly.

Ivy's body language seems to relax slightly, no longer keeping herself as closed off. She might be feeling more at ease.

"Getting nostalgic, Lee?" A small genuine smile tugs at her lips.

"I guess you could say that. Times were simple back then." 

"You sound like an old man." Ivy chuckles. She gets up and cleans her glass in the sink from her side of the room.

Her nightie struggles to cling to her form. A slight shiver runs up her back as some water splashes on her.

"Are you cold by any chance?" Calling out to her, hoping that the speaker reaches the kitchen.

Coming back with a tall glass of water and an assortment of fresh fruit, Ivy digs into her makeshift breakfast.

"I'd offer you my jacket, but.." Pointing at the slab of glass between us.

"I could put something on, Lee. I just enjoy watching you squirm more." Fluttering a wink as she takes a bite out of an apple.

Bet. Probably look as red as a tomato right now.

"Anyway… let's get back to business." I take out some manila folders from my bag. 

"You don't mind if we talk about your relationship with Harley more?" 

"Yeah, it's fine."

"'Great, how about we start with how you two met?"

…

The world will know how much my babies suffer. The endless deforestation has wreaked havoc upon the ecosystem, so it's only fair that I return the favour. My target for tonight is a cargo ship owned by the multi billion conglomerate, Exlon. Their continuous illegal logging has brought several warnings from numerous environmental organisations, that have been dismissed with only empty promises. As words don't seem to be making any difference, I believe it's time to take action. 

This would also make the perfect debut of Poison Ivy

…

"We're starting that far back?" I ask, still taking notes.

An annoyed Poison Ivy merely clicks her tongue. "You gonna let me finish?"

"Sorry, sorry. Continue."

… 

Using my newfound abilities to ensnare some crew mates to run the ship into the docks, providing the perfect opportunity to let loose.

Calling my babies from the deep, tentacles of seaweed wrap around the ship. The ship groans underneath tremendous pressure. Launching the vessel into nearby shipping containers, as if it were a tin can, an unexpected visitor appears from the shadows.

"Dr. Isley, Calm down and stop this." A caped figure moves beneath the moonlight.

"I've been expecting you, Batman. Albeit under different circumstances." Throwing a wink his way.

…

"Oh shit! You've met Batman?"

"How'd you think I got here in the first place?"

"Yeah, dumb question. Continue."  
…

Regretfully, I wouldn’t say that I put up much of a fight. I mean, I had him on the ropes for a while. Using the brainless sailors as fodder and hurling whatever my babies could get their sinewy tentacles on, from cargo containers to forklifts. Each one, easily dodged by Batman. A series of complicated maneuvers, too much to follow for the untrained eye, it begins to dawn on me that I might be out of my depth here. Using the shadows to his advantage, he manages to close the significant distance between us in a matter of seconds. A couple of batarangs come my way from my purchase atop a bed of flora. In the nick of time, a wave of green swallows the flying gizmos.

Snap out of it, Ivy. You can do this. 

“Dr. Isley, This has gone on long enough. I’m taking you in.” A low growl from Batman as he approaches me.

"We're on the same side, Batman. The real enemies are the greedy conglomerates that pollute and destroy this beautiful Earth. Imagine all the good we could do if you joined me." Taking a step off my grassy platform, a stairway of greenery forms underneath each step towards Batman.

"With you by my side Batman we could make them pay. First, I'll take you then we'll take Gotham." Now standing face to face with the unyielding Bat, I try out my secret weapon.

A lonesome vine slithers up my leg, eventually twisting around my palm. A mutated multi-coloured hibiscus blossoms from the end of the vine. “Isn’t it beautiful, Batman?” Admiring the flower as I present it to him. 

The shifting colours of the hibiscus appears to captivate him, drawing him closer. His gloved hand wavers as he silently plucks it from my open palm. Puff, a cloud of unknown gas is expelled from the hibiscus’ pulsing stigma, only to be inhaled by Batman.

An internal fist pump is more than appropriate for this successful operation.

A series of coughs and groans from the hunched over hero. “Wha- What did yo- you doo?” Batman mutters under labored breaths.

Throwing my arms around his broad shoulders and pressing my chest against his, I whisper softly in his ear. “You’re mine now, Batman.”

Muscles tense underneath his armor clad frame. A sequence of short rapid breaths escape his mouth. Shit, he might be allergic to my pheromone mixture. Can’t let him die now, he’s too valuable to die.

My hands glide to the edge of his mask. “You seem to be struggling there, Batman. Allow me to help.” Beginning to peel away the mask.

He tenses again.

And replies with a much too excessive headbutt to my skull. Knocking me unconscious.

...

All I can respond with is a lengthy whistle.

“Yeah, it hurt like a bitch for a week. Didn't really expect anyone to break through my mixture back then.” Ivy massages her forehead from the memory.

“Geez… Lights out?” 

“Yup, woke up handcuffed in GCPD lockup. They didn’t really know what to do with me back then so they just shoved me in with other peculiar inmates.” Ivy slightly shrugs.

“Which is where you met Harley.” Taking a peek into one of my manila folders.

“But you already knew that didn’t you?” Another sly grin from Ivy as she picks apart a pod of grapes.

I know. It seems kind of pointless having to run through her “backstory” when I’ve got it all on paper in front of me. But this is probably the best place to start. Who knows, with any luck she might even find it therapeutic.

"You guys hit it off right away?"

"No. Not really. She was loud and didn't really have a strong grasp on personal space." 

"Mhmm. The extrovert clashes with the introvert. Tale as old as time." 

"But that was also her charm." Ivy continues wistfully. "The drowning darkness of Gotham can be just too much sometimes. Harley was a ray of sunshine despite it all. She grew on me." Ivy pushes away the now empty plate. “We had our adventures,” She continues as she returns the plate to the kitchen. “But then he came back.” A scowl replaces her brief smile, the glass shaking in her hand under the pressure. She returns with a solemn look on her face. “Drawn like a moth to an open flame. I should’ve stopped her, Lee.” Bottom lip slightly quivering, eyes watering with a vulnerability that I’ve never seen before.”I couldn’t stop her.”

“Hey, you need a minute?” 

“No, it’s fine.” Ivy collects herself, wiping a stray tear away.

Yet again, we find ourselves unable to find the words and begin to fall into a comfortable silence. Glancing at the clock on the wall, 10:15. Our first session is almost over. Have I really done anything though? I’m supposed to be helping her, but it feels like I’ve just wasted time with small talk. I’ve got a job to do.

“Have you met him?” 

Ivy looks me dead in the eye, fully aware of whom I’m talking about.

“The Joker.”


End file.
